Don't Bite the Sun
by Devi Lethe
Summary: Prequel to the movie. Follow Tim Creedy and Quinn Abercromby as they try to find a place to make a life in the remnants of our world. Creedy x OC. On hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

It had yellow eyes. That impossibly large pupil watched him with reptilian disregard. It was going to sear him relentlessly. He'd be burned alive. Dying like that would take minutes, agonizing second after second, before he suffocated. As the beast drew back, all Tim Creedy could think was that he hoped it wouldn't follow his scent back to the others.

He closed his eyes, bracing for the pain, but it didn't come. Or at least, the pain he was expecting didn't come. Instead he felt something slam into his side. The force knocked him down, over the edge of the hill he hadn't seen. It had been hidden by the slight rise but as he fell over the edge, he felt a sense of extreme foolishness for almost dying when an easy escape was literally three feet from him.

Better not tell Quinn this one, he thought. I'll never hear the end of it.

Someone slapped him across the face. A woman, and she was pulling his arm rather insistently. "Get up!" The dragon roared behind him, angry at being denied its meal. Some part of his mind decided they had about five seconds before the thing worked out where they'd gone. Another part of him wondered how fast the strange woman had been running to knock him over. She couldn't weigh more than 9 stone, at the outside. The rest of his mind was trying to catch up to his body and not doing a very good job of it.

I'm in shock, he realized as the woman dragged him to his feet and pulled him in front of her. She planted both hands in the center of his back and shoved him towards the very bottom of the steep valley. He spotted a cave and began to run of his own volition. The possibility of survival restored control of his body, if not all his senses. He felt as much as heard the air hiss as the dragon pulled back, breath drawn, ready to roast them. A few precious feet separated him from the salvation of that underground tunnel.

The heat of the blaze pressed against him, the woman slammed into his back, and they dropped into nothing, the fire passing just over their heads. The sudden darkness blinded him and he curled himself up as best he could. God only knew what he'd land on, but at least he was alive. Some manner of good fortune landed him on flat, if a little too solid, ground. He took most of the impact in his legs, and the rest in his arms. He took a second to recover himself before sprinting down the tunnel some odd twenty feet. The woman stopped a few feet past him

Creedy was breathing hard, but he looked over at his savior. She was looking at him, her breath also ragged.

"You all right?" he asked.

"I should ask you the same thing. I'm fine," she said. "Nothing that won't heal. Hell of a run, though." She sat back against the wall of the cave. "I didn't think anyone else was out this way." Her tawny hair was cropped at the jaw and unstyled. It framed her angular features and set off her pale skin. He noticed her eyes were a strange green, slanted and large. Her cheekbones were sharp and cast shadows on her face, setting off her eyes.

"I'm with a group passing through," he answered. He watched the entrance to the tunnel anxiously, wondering if the dragon was still nearby. They were known to lurk in wait for holed up humans so leaving soon would be chancy, but he was a bit nervous to wait in a cave with an unknown woman. He knew from experience anyone could be dangerous when properly motivated.

"I wouldn't risk it if I were you," she said, shifting around to find a comfortable position. "There isn't much left here. They're hungry, and worse, they're patient."

"Great." Creedy dropped to the ground. "Looks like we're here for a while, then."

"Looks like." She settled finally with her elbows resting on her knees and he noticed her limbs were long and thin. Over all she was quite sharp looking.

"Not the best circumstances for a proper introduction." He was stalling on giving her his name. She made him feel vaguely nervous for some reason he couldn't quite pin down, but he put on his best innocuous smile. If she was dangerous, it was best to pretend he wasn't. If she wasn't dangerous, it couldn't hurt to be friendly.

She smiled back. "I'm not sure there are good circumstances for introductions anymore, but let's make the best of these. I'm Rona Moravii. You can call me Rio."

"Tim Creedy," he answered.

"Nice to meet you, Tim." Her smile was curved and a little wicked, but also reserved. Hard to believe she was American. She looked very Teutonic. German maybe. Some Irish there too unless he missed his guess, but with Americans it was always hard to say. The high cheekbones and angular features did tend to give her heritage away, but then again her name was Scottish. Not that it mattered. He couldn't seem to make himself focus on the situation at hand.

"Everyone calls me Creedy," he added. "What brings you to this little corner of England? We don't see many Americans since travel broke down."

Rio looked towards the patch of sky visible through the hole and her face took on the blank expression Creedy had come to read as loss. "I've always had great timing," she replied wryly. "My flight landed in London just as things were really getting crazy."

"I'm sorry." She just nodded. An uncomfortable silence spread between them. He tried to break it by changing the subject. "Is there anywhere safe we can go to after we get out of this? I need to find my friends, make sure they're all right."

He thought she might not answer him at all, but after a time she said, "I've been living near some ruins on the edge of town. I think it used to be a wine cellar, but it's pretty hard to tell. It's dark and cold, but it's got room for at least five other people to sleep and I've got some food there. Water, too." She got laboriously to her feet as if her bones ached. "You and your friends are welcome." She arched her back and grimaced.

"Thank you. We appreciate it." He also got to his feet, but he stepped closer to her and took her hand, gently to be sure his gesture wasn't threatening. He was struck by the green of her eyes, the color of Caledonian pines. Hastily dropping her hand, Creedy did his best not to flush and turned to the last of the daylight. "Right, so I'll check to see if it's gone."

"Don't!" she hissed, vehemently. Creedy looked over in surprise at the viciousness in her voice as she seized his arm. "Don't," she repeated, a bit more calmly. "It's still out there."

The mouth of the cave looked no different to him. "How can you tell?"

Rio watched him intently for another moment and when she was sure he wasn't going to move, she let go of his arm. "Watch." She picked up a stone approximately the size of a small potato and hefted it testingly. She took aim, and tossed it up through the gap. The dragon zipped past and snatched it before it had time to hit the ground.

"Jesus." Creedy had a brief vision of what would've happened to his head had he peeked out. His heart felt like it was doing its very best to quit its job. Rio started walking toward the back of the cave. "Where are you going?"

She picked her way carefully along the treacherous floor and didn't look at him as she called back, "To get deeper. That thing is going to be out there all night. We'll have to sleep here, and I don't like the idea of sleeping so close to a dragon." It made sense, but Creedy couldn't help looking longingly at the open spaces beyond the mouth of the tunnel.

He hoped Quinn was all right. He hoped everyone was safe. Most of all, he hoped they wouldn't move on without him. All this ran through his mind before he turned his back on the last light of day and followed the stranger into the dark. It was not the first time he'd been in this position. He still remembered sitting alone in the dark for three days until the smell of the bodies got to be too bad. He'd been trapped in an elevator with the rest of his family when the power went out for the city. Stupid thing to do in retrospect, taking an elevator, but the stairs were broken off.

If it had been him as he was now, he'd have jumped the gap and had Quinn toss him the children, but at the time he was only nine. He'd not yet met Quinn, or become a man. It was his father he looked to for answers, and his father had told them all to take the elevator. Creedy was so wrapped up in his memories, he barely noticed Rio in time to avoid running into her.

"We'll sleep here," she announced. She'd chosen an alcove just off the main tunnel. It was shielded by a wall of rubble, maybe five feet high. Not perfect protection from anything, but it would leave them with a place to rest out of plain sight, and some protection was better than none at all. Inside there was a bedroll tucked away, a small flashlight, and two chocolate bars. Rio immediately began to unwind the string tying up the bedroll.

"Been stuck down here before, have you?" Creedy noticed a fist sized hole in the ceiling. To let in air? He wasn't sure, but it let in enough light for him to see by and tinged everything a strange purple. Who knew sunset and pitch black evened out to violet.

She laughed a little. It was a nice laugh. "I've been stuck everywhere around here in the last few months. Food here is scarce for them now." She looked up at him from her crouch, her eyes unreadable. "You're the first person I've seen in almost a month." Rio contemplated him for another minute, and Creedy felt the flush from earlier threatening to return. She probably thought he was a lunatic, standing three feet from escape staring down a dragon like an idiot. "How are you feeling?"

He started to say, "Fine," but realized as he went to answer that he was not fine. That had been the closest call yet, and Creedy had seen plenty of close calls over the last few years. His heart was still beating in his ears, he felt dizzy, and he realized his legs were trembling. "Not too great, honestly."

Her gaze sharpened and he felt a bit embarassed for making a big deal out of it. "You're in shock," she said, confirming what he had briefly realized as he rolled down the hill. "You need to lie down." Taking his hand again, she pulled him to the opened bedroll.

"Really, it's not that bad." Despite his insistence Creedy felt none too steady and he sat when she tugged him toward the floor. The bedroll was more comfortable than the broken ground and privately he was very grateful for it. She ignored his admittedly weak protests and pushed him back until he was mostly lying down before handing him a water bottle.

"Take small sips of that every ten minutes or so," she instructed. Her fingers caught his wrist in a strong grip, turning it face up. She checked his pulse with practiced efficiency. "Don't try to get up for a while unless you have to. Your heart rate is still too fast." She started to move away but Creedy caught her wrist.

"Hey, uh... thanks." Rio's eyebrow drew up. "For getting me out of the way. And for bringing me here. You didn't have to get involved at all. So thank you."

Rio smiled softly. "I wasn't about to just let you die," she said.

"You could have," he answered. "Most people would've."

"Would you have let me die if it had been reversed?"

Creedy had a brief flash of the moment in his senses again. The terror flooding him, the numbness, and above all that eye... staring... He shuddered. "No, I wouldn't let anyone die like that if I could help it." A gentle squeeze of her hand brought him back to this moment.

"Neither would I."

"You took a big risk, though," he went on. "I could've turned on you -- taken advantage of the gesture. Most women have had it happen these days, at least once." If asked at that particular instant what the most awkward moment in his life to date had been, Tim Creedy would've said nothing had ever been more awkward than trying to delicately talk about rape with this woman. "Just... thanks."

"You're welcome." She just watched him for a minute, before delicately but persistently tugging her hand back and Creedy realized he had a death grip on her wrist.

"Sorry." He released her and sank down onto the bedroll. He suddenly had a throbbing headache and his last thought before he fell asleep was to wonder what Quinn was doing at that exact moment.


	2. Chapter 2

Her back felt like it was a mass of raw skin, and in all actuality, it was. She'd been rubbing it that way for hours now against the inside of her shirt. Rio carefully stretched the burns on her back to test the damage. They were painful, but not excruciating. First, maybe second degree at the most severe. She'd been lucky. Really, really lucky. Following her train of thought, she glanced over at Creedy sleeping on her bedroll. He twitched as if aware of her scrutiny, his face anxious. She hoped he wasn't having nightmares, but there was a strong possibility he was.

He looked much less at ease. Rio couldn't decide whether to wake him or let him get as much rest as he could. After a few tense minutes he quieted and his face took on the expression of quiet sleep again.

At least he wasn't making any noise, she thought. There was no way the dragon would give up if he was raising hell.

She shifted to bring as much of her back into contact with the wall as possible. The cold felt fantastic on her burned skin, but it chilled the rest of her. A nice solution would've been to sit on the bedroll and wrap up her legs, but Creedy needed it more than she did at the moment, and he was a little too big for the roll as it was. Even curled up on his side, his feet reached past the bottom edge. It brought a little smile to her lips but that was replaced by a grimace. She tried to reposition her butt which had gone numb five minutes ago. Her pelvis ached from the concrete floor.

She distracted herself by studying Creedy. He was very compelling in a slightly rugged way with aristocratic features worry lines between his brows. He had an overall presence that radiated intensity. Even in sleep he carried an aura of readiness. Then again, that might just be the shock. He was obviously not entirely himself at the moment. Her wrist was probably going to bruise because of his vice grip on it earlier, but she didn't really mind. Pins and needles spread through her legs. With a heavy sigh, Rio got to her feet. She braced herself against the wall as the head rush brought a wave of dizziness and technicolor patterns swamped her vision. Her back stung when the cloth of her shirt brushed against it and she hissed in frustration.

She hadn't been concerned with making small noises. One of the reasons she chose this place was for the complete lack of acoustics. It had virtually no sound reflection, but Creedy's eyes snapped open at the sound, his entire body tense, ready to fight or flee.

"Sorry," Rio said softly, crouching down so he didn't have to look up at her. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"You all right?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice. It was really quite touching he cared.

She looked away. "I'm fine. My back hurts, that's all." He frowned briefly, probably trying to discern why her back hurt. Comprehension passed over his features, quickly replaced by the concern from earlier. "It's not bad," she added. "Just superficial burns."

He sat up and gestured for her to turn around. "Let me see," he ordered. Rio went perfectly still. "I'm not being a creep, but you should let me look at them. If they get infected you're going to have serious problems. It's not like there are helpful doctors around anymore to prescribe penicilin." He gentled his tone before he went on. "You've been taking care of me all night. Come on. Let me see."

Rio forced herself to keep her breathing steady. If he wanted to rape her, he'd had plenty of oppurtunity, and she knew in her gut that Creedy was a good man. He wouldn't take advantage of the situation. That did not, however, make the situation any less threatening.

He's just returning the favor, she told herself sternly. It's okay. Just do it.

Rio turned sharply on her heel and pulled off her sweater before she could talk herself out of it. The sudden movement tugged the burned skin painfully and she grimaced, but didn't hiss again. Taking greater care to respect the injury, she rolled up her tanktop to just below her breasts leaving most of her back exposed. Enough for him to get a good look at the burns. She was grateful they were on her back so she didn't have to face him under his scrutiny. As it was the weight of his eyes made her cheeks flame. Rio let her chin fall to rest on her collarbones and stared sullenly at the concavity of her stomach.

The flashlight clicked on and cast her shadow on the wall, a demonic, crouched figure.

"Keep the light away from the air hole," she warned. "We don't want anything passing overhead to know we're here."

"Right." He repositioned the light and leaned closer. She flinched when he placed his hand lightly on her shoulder. "I'm not going to hurt you." She said nothing, but shifted her weight slightly to let him rest his palm on her. Rio relaxed into the touch, letting him counter-balance her weight to steady her. "Some of these look pretty bad."

"What does the worst one look like?"

He studied her back for another minute. "Umm.... The worst one is on your right shoulderblade. Kind of white looking."

Shit, she thought vehemently. "Is it seeping any liquid?"

"Some," he answered.

Rio let a tense breath. "Okay, it's only second degree. If that's the worst then they'll all be fine."

"Yeah, that's the worst." He released her shoulder and cautiously rolled down her tanktop. He was careful not to let the fabric drag over the damaged skin. Very deliberately, he didn't touch her in any way as he unrolled the shirt. The gesture was incredibly sensitive and it only made her feel worse for being needlessly tense.

"Thank you." She tugged the sweater on before turning back to face him. "Feeling any better?"

Creedy nodded, his eyes still full of some emotion she intentionally didn't read. "I am. The sleep did me a lot of good, but I feel a bit bad for stealing your bed."

Rio smiled and shrugged. "Don't worry about it. You needed it more than I did." She sat on the unused portion of bedroll next to him, her back soothed by the wall. It was still warm from his body. Now that she was fully clothed she found she wasn't bothered by his proximity. "How'd you sleep?"

He laughed and let his head fall back against the stone with a soft thump. "I've slept better." He rubbed his face with a dirty hand leaving black streaks across his skin. Rio checked the urge to wipe them off. He looked like he was going to say more, but instead he shook his head and asked, "How long until dawn?"

Rio glanced at the patch of sky. "Maybe three hours," she estimated.

"Christ on a cracker, woman, you let me sleep for nine hours?" His tone was incredulous, his eyes wide. Rio couldn't help the smirk that threatened to break into a genuine smile. The combination of disbelief and good humor was utterly infectious. "What a waste of time." As he spoke his eyes lost most of their mirth and she knew he was thinking of his friends.

She sobered herself appropriately before she answered, "We weren't going anywhere regardless. Moving in the day is mostly safe if you can't see them, but moving at night... That's suicide. No, we'll wait two more hours, until the sky starts to get gray. That's when they're most likely to doze. It's our best chance to make good time."

When she looked to him to see if he agreed Creedy raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "You're the boss. I'm just here to add to the scenery."

Rio looked over at him seriously and replied, "I worked very hard yesterday to make sure you didn't add to the scenery."

Creedy looked back at her and gave a half-smile that didn't reach his eyes. "That you did." He said it like it was an evaluation, his gaze heavy on her again, before he glanced away. "That you did," he added with a grave certainty. They sat in tense, not quite uncomfortable silence for ten minutes before Creedy turned back to Rio and said, "You want to Thumb Wrestle? We got to do something to pass the time."

His jovial tone was restored as if it had never left and for reasons she could never quite remember afterwards, Rio said, "Sure."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: TravelingThroughTime, I hope my depiction of Quinn doesn't disappoint. Feedback is always adored.

* * *

It must've once been a very ordinary building on a very ordinary block, but in these times, it was a bloody miracle. The stone building rose up a full one and a half stories tall. The second story was partly crumbled away -- probably from a dragon digging through it for people -- but the first floor was entirely intact. The cement walls had been scorched, and in one or two places literally melted, but they were still standing. It must've begun its life as some sort of warehouse to sport that kind of windowless design, but whatever the reason, the burned out husk was perfect for their needs. As they approached, Creedy wondered why no one stopped them at fifty feet before finding out as he got closer.

The sentry was sleeping on duty. Creedy and Rio stood side by side watching the young man snore quietly. He couldn't decide whether to be angry with the kid or take pity on him for being so exhausted. Rio just looked amused, her lips tipped up in that secretive smile. He chose to clear his throat tactfully. Knowing Mike, he'd feel terrible for falling asleep. No reason to make him feel worse.

"Oh, uh...Creedy. You're back," Michael stammered, sitting up and blinking his eyes. "Who are you?" he added, noticing Rio a bit belatedly.

"Mike, this is Rona." Creedy had a brief mental lapse trying to decide how to introduce her. "She's a friend of mine, and she's welcome here." He waited for the youth to nod before he went on, "Where's Quinn?"

Michael turned an interesting shade of scarlet. "I... uh... I'm not exactly sure. I can go find him--"

"Don't worry about it," Creedy gestured for him to stay seated. "We'll find him. Keep your eyes open." He gave Michael a meaningful look before he walked into the burned-out building. It had once been a grocery store and it still sported the slotted shelves. It gave the small band inside space for privacy. People could fit neatly in single rooms, but that didn't make it any less frustrating to bump elbows everytime you rolled over in your sleep. The space was a luxury, but the front was unsecured. Though fine as a temporary shelter, it wouldn't do as any kind of permanent home.

As they moved through the store, Creedy saw the people eyeing Rio as they went. Some looked curious, others suspicious. Meeting with Quinn now would establish her as trusted and influential. Creedy hadn't planned it that way, but he was glad it worked out so neatly. He nodded politely to those he'd come here with and ignored those he didn't recognize.

Perhaps a second group passing through, he mused. Often groups would merge and split seamlessly according to convenience so new faces weren't unusual. Michael should've told him about them, though. Except for the core group of Quinn, himself, Jared, Irving and Michael, others came and went without incident generally, but it was always better to know these things.

"This is a large group," Rio said. To her, living alone, so many people in one place must've been shocking. He suspected only her composure kept her from full out anxiety. She had to be feeling like she was sitting in the bull's eye of a target.

"I didn't come here with all of them," Creedy explained. "A second group must've arrived after I left." He scanned the isles for Quinn's face but didn't see him.

"How long have you been away?" She sounded mildly surprised, but then he hadn't explained his reason for being out alone in the first place, or said how long he'd been gone. He didn't know how much to tell her, so he'd told her nothing.

"Three days." He spotted Quinn heading into the back of the building with a woman and turned abruptly. This time it was Rio who nearly ran into him. "Quinn's in the back," he said by way of apology. Creedy quickened his pace without thinking and was pleased when she kept up.

Then again, she has to be fast, he reminded himself. She's all alone out here. There is no second chance.

Quinn was in conversation with a middle-aged woman, maybe thirty or thirty-five, but he smiled when he saw Creedy and broke off.

"I was just starting to worry about you," he admonished. "You all right?"

"I'm fine," Creedy answered. "Got a little held up, that's all."

Quinn nodded. "And who is this?"

Rio had moved to stand beside him and Creedy gave her an encouraging smile. He knew Quinn could come across as intense sometimes and he didn't want her to feel unwelcome. "This is the reason I'm fine. Rona Moravi."

The look Quinn gave him said he'd have to explain that later, but to Rio he said, "Good to meet you." He offered her a smile that just managed to be warm, but the silence quickly turned a bit awkward. He knew Quinn wanted to speak with him privately, but he couldn't think of a polite way to ask Rio to scram. Thanks for saving me, get out? Creedy knew he wasn't the most gracious of men but even he thought that was uncalled for.

She solved the problem for both of them. "Not to be rude, but is there any food you could spare?"

"Yeah, there should be a stew going in what used to be the freezer section. Tell the scary looking guy I said you could have some. His name's Irving." Quinn's smile was much warmer this time. Grateful, most likely. When she'd gone he turned back to Creedy. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"After a manner of speaking, yes. I didn't find any medicine, but Rona is a nurse." He watched Quinn carefully to gauge his reaction. God knew Quinn was protective and Creedy wasn't honestly sure he'd let Rio see Jared.

Quinn locked eyes with Creedy, his face hard. Into the long, tense silence, Quinn finally asked, "Do you trust her?"

"Yeah, I do." Quinn still looked unconvinced. It was obvious to Creedy Quinn was torn between mistrust and the chance to help his ward. In a much softer voice, Creedy went on, "She saved my life, Quinn." He looked away so his friend wouldn't be able to read the fear in his eyes. "I got cornered on my way back. Thought I was done for sure, and then out of nowhere she tackles me out of the way. I had no idea she was there until she knocked me down. Damnedest thing I ever saw, Quinn. She dragged me into an old service tunnel, even stayed up to make sure nothing got the jump on us." He watched Quinn absorb this, obviously weighing it against his own impression of her. "She didn't have to do any of it, but she did." More quietly he added, "She took a burn for me."

Quinn stared hard at him for another minute and finally nodded. "If you trust her."

She trusted me, Creedy thought.

Quinn turned back to the older woman who'd been waiting politely out of earshot. She was attractive in a plump sort of way with dark, curling hair and heavy breasts. Quinn said something to her in a low voice Creedy couldn't quite catch. The woman went into the front and left them alone. "Emily is with the other group we picked up yesterday. They were eight altogether. Three women, a boy, and four kids."

"Think they'll stay?"

Quinn shook his head. "Hard to tell but I don't think so." Quinn looked him over appraisingly. "What about Rona?"

Creedy felt like he was being asked something else, but he wasn't sure what the real question was. "You'd have to ask her. She lives on the edge of town now, but I don't think she's planning to stay in the area. She was telling me about this place. There's nothing left here, Quinn. I was the first person she'd seen in weeks." Creedy shook his head, the sense of apprehension growing in him. "We can't stay here with so many people. Too big a target."

"We haven't seen much activity."

"I had a lone dragon chase me down through rubble and then camp out on our hiding place for over twelve hours. Believe me when I say if you don't see them now it's because they don't want to spook the prey."Creedy rubbed his forehead. "I really think we need to leave, Quinn. It's why I want Rio to see Jared."

"Rio?"

"Sorry, Rona." Quinn still looked confused so Creedy shrugged. "Nickname or something. I didn't ask. But she can tell us how to move him so he doesn't get any worse."

"You told her about him?" There was no accusation in Quinn's tone.

"No."

"Well, then, that's probably the place to start."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: A spot of good news in a dark time. Enjoy it. Things are going to get a bit rough in the next few chapters.

* * *

The boy wheezed heavily, his breath coming in labored draws. His tiny frame looked small even on the child-sized mattress. It was the only mattress they had and it spoke volumes on Quinn's devotion that it was for a sick child. It couldn't be reused after this. It would be burned, but Quinn had gone out to find it himself when they'd realized Jared was truly ill. Quinn watched him with tightly leashed anger. The frustration of being unable to help was written in his eyes, in his whitened knuckles. Creedy could see how it hurt Quinn even to look at Jared. He knew his friend was ashamed of what he saw as his failure. Nothing Creedy or anyone else said could convince him otherwise. If he couldn't save Jared, he failed.

Though he would never admit it, Creedy was scared to death of that boy dying, but not for any good or moral reason. He was afraid that if Jared died, Quinn would give up and that terrified Creedy in a way not even dragons could. Without Quinn to lead them, what would they do? Creedy had no answer and that was answer enough.

"How long has he been like this?" Rio watched the child with a mixture of sensitivity and resolve. She and Quinn were alike in that way. They could face even the worst parts of this life unflinching. Unlike him, they didn't hide behind good humor because they were frightened of the pain. He watched them both as they shouldered the burden of Jared's life and envied their composure. She was responsible for the boy now, too.

"Two weeks," Quinn answered. "It started as a fever. Chills, aches, vomitting, but after a week the vomitting stopped and he started coughing."

"Wet or dry?" she asked.

"Dry at first, but it's been a heavy, wet cough for the last five days. We've kept him isolated up here to try to keep it from spreading. No one goes in or out but us." He indicated Creedy and himself. "And now you." Creedy tried very hard not to see the tears in Quinn's eyes. He hated seeing Quinn, the most capable man he knew, reduced to impotent fury.

Rio squeezed Creedy's hand once and touched Quinn's arm briefly. The unexpected touch was surprising, and over before Creedy could respond to it. She gave them both a small smile that had nothing to do with cheer, and everything to do with reassurance.

Creedy grasped Quinn's shoulder, his touch both gentle and firm. "Come on. You don't need to wait." He steered Quinn away from the little room as Rio sat down by Jared on the small bed. It suddenly struck him how similar they looked, both too thin, nearly emaciated. They had the same bruised looking eyes and pale skin, the same high cheekbones... Fire-eaten was the right word. Creedy shook off the thought and drew his friend outside into the hall. Rio had her charge. He had his.

Quinn sat down at the top of the steps. It wasn't often that he showed the hardship of being leader, but when he did, it was always to Creedy.

"She'll do her best, Quinn." He couldn't promise she would be able to help. They both knew that disease and sickness mostly meant death for people these days. Medicine was hard to come by, and knowledge of it was harder to find. Rio was a godsend in many ways.

"I don't want him to die, Creedy." Quinn blinked back the tears that couldn't come and stood up. "Let's go check on the others." Creedy heard what he didn't say as well. Let's go check on the others. Let's go check on the one's we can keep alive. Let's do something, anything, that can help. That was what Quinn did best. He helped who he could -- anyone he could. It was why they all loved him. It also meant they all needed him, so Creedy did what he did best and put on a smile.

"All right, let's make the rounds." The short walk up the stairs seemed to take forever before they were back among other people. Creedy didn't think it made either of them feel any less alone.

* * *

Rio sat cautiously on the edge of the mattress. He couldn't have been more than six or seven. So young to be so alone.

No more alone than you are, she reminded herself. At least he has Quinn and Creedy. She could tell Creedy loved the boy, too, and it was easy to see why. He was so vulnerable. A heart would have to be made of stone not to want to protect him.

His skin was pale but not sallow and covered by a thin sheen of sweat. She tugged down the edge of her sleeve to pat his face dry. No fever. His brown eyes opened slowly, but focused on her right away. He didn't look afraid which surprised her. It spoke volumes of his faith in Quinn that even a stranger on his bed couldn't make Jared feel unsafe.

"Hi, Jared," she said.

"Hi." His voice sounded more like a croak. She catalogued swollen throat along with the other symptoms. "Who are you?"

"My name is Rio." She leaned a bit more heavily on the bed now that she didn't need to worry about waking him. "I'm here to try to find out why you're sick." It was obvious from Quinn's description the boy had started with influenza, but if it had already turned into pneumonia, treating him would be much more difficult. She prayed to a god she wasn't sure of that she'd caught it early enough. The timing was right, but it was never a good idea to make assumptions. "Does it hurt here, in your chest?" Her fingers rested lightly on his breastbone.

Jared shook his head no. "Quinn is really worried, isn't he? I didn't mean to upset him." His little body shook as a cough racked him. She pulled him onto his side to be certain he wouldn't choke and sure enough, he brought up a bit of green phlegm. "I'm starting to feel better, really, I am."

"Oh, sweetheart, he isn't mad at you. No one is. It's not your fault you got sick." Rio eased him back onto the mattress. "I believe you that you're feeling better, but if I'm right, you aren't sick with the same thing anymore."

"What's the matter with me?"

She brushed his hair aside and rearranged his blanket to cover him better. "You started out with the flu, and now I think you've got bronchitis. Back in the days before there were dragons, people got it all the time. It's just... things like this are much scarier now. The important thing is that you're going to be just fine, Jared."

"So Quinn can stop worrying?" His brown eyes lit up from within.

Rio smiled, "Yes, Quinn can stop worrying. But for right now you should try to rest. Did you know Irving is making stew?" He shook his head. "Tell you what, you try to get a bit a more sleep and I'll bring you up some after I tell Quinn the good news, all right?"

"Okay." He wiggled around a bit to get comfortable. "Are you going to be with us now?"

Rio looked down at his sleepy face. "I just might. I'll be back soon." She waited until Jared closed his eyes and she was sure he was really asleep before she got up to leave. The lantern in the corner seemed somehow inadequate, but the soft light was easy on the eyes and probably easier to sleep with than a flashlight. No one would be down here anyway. Rio made her way upstairs to the store.

Seeing all those people in one place was still a bit of a shock. She felt constantly watched, which was true. She was the outsider here. It was only natural the preexisting group would be uneasy. What made her uncomfortable was the fact that she was also uncomfortable. Rather than relief at being surrounded by people, Rio wanted to find some place alone. Or with Creedy. She didn't mind being around him at all. Maybe it was just because she didn't know them, but somehow that answer seemed hollow, even to herself.

She wondered what was wrong with herself, but had no time to consider the question. She'd spotted Creedy's dark hair. He and Quinn were standing with Irving who was bent over his stew pot. Seeing them all together made her forget her introspection and smile. How could she not?

Irving, as she had discovered earlier, was a 6'5" bald man with a red handlebar mustache and more tattoos than she could count. He was absolutely the last person she'd expect to see cooking over a kettle. She had liked him immediately.

He spotted her first as she drew up beside them. "Back for more already?" he asked. His voice was pleasantly deep without being loud. It didn't carry, an effect she suspected he'd cultivated.

"Sorry, Irving, not just now, but I did promise Jared I'd bring him some soon." She glanced at Quinn, wondering if she was all right to speak freely around the big man. He must've understood the look because he nodded, so she went on, "He'll be fine."

Rio had never seen anyone actually sag with relief but that was the only way to describe what Quinn did. His entire body relaxed all in one breath. "Oh thank god. Thank god." Creedy clapped Quinn on the back, his relief also apparent but much less profound than Quinn's.

"He's still sick," she cautioned. "He has bronchitis, but the good news is as long as he stays warm and fed it'll clear on its own. The better news is he's not contagious. Get him some new clothes, wash him before he puts them on, and burn the old one's."

"So he's all right to be moved?" Creedy asked. His anxiety was clear to see. Still shaken from his encounter, no doubt. Of course they'd want to leave the area. It was the smart thing to do.

She forced a smile she hoped was convincing. "Yes, he's fine to be moved." Creedy's brow creased, uncertain. Before he could ask anything she turned to Irving. "How about that stew?" She was certain Irving saw through her, but he didn't say a word. He ladled a bowl of stew that was mostly thick broth and handed it off.

Quinn seemed to finally recover himself. The relief was gone and in its place was the kind of happiness that only comes in the wake of desperation. "I'll come, too." He couldn't stop smiling.

Creedy frowned a bit, but only said, "I'll be here when you're done."

The stew smelled delicious, but it burned her hand.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I don't think any of the characters are given an age in Reign of Fire, so I'm using the actors age at the time of filming. Quinn is 28, Creedy is 33, and Jared is 18. My story is a prequel, eight years after dragons were unleashed. Quinn is 20, Creedy is 25, and Jared is 10. Just thought I'd put it to a distinctive timeline.

* * *

What Creedy really wanted was some damn peace and quiet. At just after dusk, it was the time when everyone chatted to one another about all manner of things. They made plans, they held each other, and they talked about the people they missed. Normally it was his favorite time of day but just that minute he couldn't stand any of it. This time when he headed out the door, Michael was awake.

"Hey," Creedy said. He drew a deep breath feeling the chill in the air. Felt good in his lungs.

Michael ducked his head nervously. "Hey. What are you doing out here? I'm sentry until moonrise. Another hour or so. Maybe less."

"Who's replacing you?"

The youth shrugged noncommittally. "Not sure, honestly. That other boy -- can't remember his name."

Creedy nodded and looked up. The sky was beautiful; the stars clear points of light against a steel blue canvas. Not a wisp of cloud. Michael followed suit but his reaction was a bit different. In his hazel eyes, there was only nervousness, his posture reflected tension. To him the open air was nothing but a thing of fear, a vast threatening expanse that offered nothing but danger. Creedy felt infinitely sad for all the children who would never really see the sky.

Just like all the warm, caring people inside, Creedy couldn't stand being near Michael. "Why don't you head inside, Mike. I'll wait here for the other guy."

"Really?"

"Yeah, go on inside. Get some rest." He clapped the boy on the shoulder and took the rifle. He preempted the attempt at thanks. "Don't mention it. You're welcome." Michael gave him an odd look of uncertainty, but didn't question it. Creedy smiled to reassure him and then took his place. From the vantage point, he had a clear view of the square and the road down the hill. A quick check showed what he already knew. One round in the chamber.

"'I beheld the earth, and, lo, it was without form, and void; and the heavens, and they had no light.'" Her voice was soft and somehow seemed not to break the silence or fill it. The words spread out into the night and became part of it. Or at least, that's how it seemed to Creedy. Rio came to stand beside him. He didn't look at her.

"Somehow, I wouldn't have pegged you as religious," he answered.

"I'm not. I'd like to be, though."

"'O how all things are far removed / and long have passed away. / I do believe the star, / whose light my face reflects, / is dead and has been so / for many thousand years.'"

Her smile was beatific. He couldn't help it. He had to look.

"Somehow," she said. "I wouldn't have pegged you as a fan of Rilke."

"Just that one."

"'I long to quiet my anxious heart and stand beneath the sky's immensity.'" Creedy's voice joined hers and together they went on, "'I long to pray... / And one of all the stars / must still exist.'" Their eyes met, and turned away. This time the quiet twisted itself into knots, tense and uncomfortable. Creedy very desperately regretted sending Michael inside. And at the same time he didn't. Part of him knew this was necessary.

"You want to thumb wrestle?" he asked. Her eyebrow shot up and a half-smile pulled up the corner of her lips. Creedy shrugged. "It worked the last time. Where's Quinn?"

She leaned back against the hollow door frame, her chin tilted imperiously. Every line of her body was elegant. "He's with Jared still. I don't think you could get him away from that kid for the world right now." Even her voice held the quiet tinge of authority. "I know we're supposed to dance around this but I won't tell anyone we cut to the chase if you won't."

"Deal, but I get to go first."

"That's hardly fair. Why do you get to go first?"

"Because I called it."

"Fine. You can go first." She smirked at him knowingly.

"Right. Here it goes." He took a deep breath to steady himself. It wasn't so much fun now that he had his moment to speak. "I want you to come with us when we leave." He cut her off before she could answer. "No, let me say it. Rona, I really want you to come with us when we leave. I'm not delusional, and I don't know that I believe in God anymore, but I believe things do happen for a reason." He paused for a moment and looked away. It was damn hard being honest. "And I think we could really have something, you and me. Something good."

Seconds passed. Unbearable seconds. He risked a glance at her. Rio was staring down the road, but she wasn't seeing it. Not that there was much to see, he noted dispassionately. The world was dark, waiting for the moon. Creedy waited for her.

"I was on a plane to see my father. He left my mother before I was born. He had a wife here, and a stepson. It was going to be the first time I met them in person." She looked down. "It was overcast that day. Cloudy. You couldn't see hardly a thing, but I saw it out the window. We had made landfall and we were approaching Heathrow. And for one perfect instant the clouds broke." Her eyes glittered and Creedy realized she was crying. He wanted to hold her. "I remember thinking it was beautiful."

The truth struck him suddenly. She was talking about the first. She had seen the original dragon.

As from far away he heard his voice ask, "Beautiful?"

She nodded. "Yes. Absolutely beautiful." She brushed the tears away. Creedy felt like he was under some spell. He couldn't make himself move. His chest felt tight. Rio went on, "My father didn't believe me, of course, and by the time he did there were no flights in or out of the country. He left me with his wife and her son. She was the one who taught me nursing. We stayed together for five years but our settlement was raided. They both died and I was raped by the marauders.

"I told you that story to tell you this story," she said. "I don't know how to be close to people anymore, Creedy. I can't promise that I'll stay. I can't promise anything."

"You don't have to promise anything. You don't even have to say yes. Just think about it, yeah?"

She nodded, her hair falling forward. In the dark, her eyes looked black. "It's all I've been thinking about. I just... I don't want to be unfair to you, Tim."

No one had called him Tim in years. He didn't know how to feel about it. "Really, everyone calls me Creedy."

She gave a half-smile that was real beneath the grief. "Well you called me Rona earlier. Fair is fair." This time the silence was comfortable and less expectant. "How long are you sentry?"

"Just till moonrise."

"I'll wait with you." She stepped closer and looked at him expectantly. For a moment he had no idea what to do and then she motioned for him to scoot over. He realized she was telling him she'd try.

She would want to sit down, wouldn't she? he thought. He made room for her on the crate. It was a tight fit, but he didn't mind. She was warm, and she smelled like sulfur. Most likely a remnant from his rescue.

"How's your back?" he asked, prompted by his train of thought.

"Blistered, but healing. It should be fine in another few days."

Creedy briefly considered putting an arm over her shoulders, but decided it wouldn't be prudent under the circumstances. Instead he reached over and threaded his fingers through hers.

"How much longer till moonrise?" she asked.

"About an hour." He felt electric tingles down his spine when she leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Good," she answered.


	6. Chapter 6

Everything was quiet, finally. People were sleeping, or lying awake, but the talking had stopped. Dim lights flickered here and there, under blankets, or coats. Quinn walked up and down the building, his mind anxiously going over the next day. It would be a day of decisions, for everyone involved. In the third aisle, he noticed someone was sitting up, awake. Obligingly, she turned her face towards the light. It was Rio.

Her arm was draped across her knees, the thin wrist arched with a casual grace. Her shirt sleeve was pulled back by the angle of her shoulder revealing fresh purplish bruising. She stared away into nothing, the tilt of her chin imperious, her lips faintly curved as if she were enjoying some private joke. The little girl beside her reached out a timid hand to touch Rio's arm but stopped short. Rio noticed anyway and turned to look at the child -- Anne, Quinn remembered. Emily's niece.

"What did you do to your arm?" the girl asked. She sat up to better see the arm in question.

The woman's smile deepened. For a moment it seemed she wouldn't answer, but then her other hand came into view, the long fingers pulling the sleeve away entirely to reveal four rows of bruises. It looked like a mockery of jewelry.

"There was a man who grabbed me," Rio said softly, angling her forearm to give the girl a better look. "These are from his hand. See?" She traced the pattern with her own fingers, the random markings suddenly resolving into a clear picture. Quinn's insides flinched as if he'd been hit. The sight of the bruises sickened him. The force behind the grip must have been phenomenal to cause such distinct bruises in such a short time. Anne's eyes were wide with a combination of wonder and fear.

"Did it hurt?" Her tiny hand hovered reverently over the arm. She looked as though she was trying to decide if it was all right to be excited or if this was a serious conversation.

"Yes," the woman said simply, her eyes resting indulgently on the little girl's brown curls.

"Did you cry?"

Her lips twitched upwards again, dangerously close to a genuine smile. "No."

"Really? Why not?"

Rio contemplated the injuries briefly then looked at the girl again. "Pain doesn't matter. It's just an idea, like being afraid is an idea."

Quinn could see that Anne understood she was being spoken to as an equal, and so she listened even though she didn't understand.

The girl thought very seriously for a moment before saying, "I'm afraid sometimes, and when things hurt I cry."

Rio nodded. "Ideas are powerful things," she said. "The key is to be stronger."

Most children would've asked how, or why, but this little brunette looked down at her own unmarred skin and frowned. "Are you happier?"

The woman blinked, her face going blank. "What?" Quinn was a bit taken back by the insight of the question himself.

"Are you happier now that you're strong?" The child's tone said this should've been self-explanatory. Sometimes grown ups could be so slow.

"Happier..." The word seemed to roll off Rio's lips as if it was being tasted, examined. For a brief moment the expression on her face was not mocking, or reserved. Her eyes held a far-off sadness, and Quinn saw for the first time the real Rona Moravi. "I'm happier," she finally said, "But I'm not happy." Then her face took on that imperious tilt, that meaningless smile and Rio looked at the girl with a certain distanced indulgence. "Happiness is an idea, too." She touched the girl's head with a fondness that surprised him. "Try to get some sleep."

Anne nodded and laid back down closing her eyes obediently. Rio stood and stretched, a grimace briefly crossing her face at the apex. Her eyes looked bruised. The dark circles around them were pronounced in the dim light. As she scanned the aisle she spotted him watching her and smiled. Quinn realized he was smiling too.

He nodded his head, asking her to join him. Rio picked her way around the sleeping bodies, her long legs stepping easily over the groups. It occured to him she seemed more at ease now that things were quiet.

"Still up, I see," he said when she was close enough.

She shrugged and looked away. "My back is still painful. It's hard to sleep on it."

"Why does your back hurt?"

A small crease appeared between her eyebrows. "From the other day, when I saved Creedy. He didn't tell you?" Quinn shook his head so she went on. "He was cornered by a dragon, and I got him out of the way. Showed him a tunnel where we could hide, but I caught the heat from the blast. It burned my back in a few places. Nothing serious."

Quinn made a noncommittal noise he hoped was convincing. "Where is Creedy, speaking of the bastard?"

"Sleeping, like other normal people," she jabbed. "What's got you up?"

"I'm always up. Hard to sleep when there's so much to do."

Rio nodded, her expression sympathetic. The silence between them was almost awkward. Quinn glanced around the room seeking some distraction -- any distraction really. Naturally, nothing at all happened, and the silence between them deepened.

Say something, he ordered himself.

He didn't have to. She spoke up first.

"Creedy asked me to come with you,' she said softly, "When you leave."

His mind stumbled over the idea that Creedy asked her to go with him, but then his synapses fired again and he realized when she said "you" she meant their group. She was asking for help, that much was obvious, but he had no idea what to say. Creedy was good with people, Quinn was good with planning. This was most certainly outside his area of expertise. Quinn nodded, hoping she couldn't read his discomfort.

"What did you tell him?" he asked.

She looked at her feet, unable to look him in the eye when she answered, "I told him I couldn't make any promises. Without going into specifics I don't know if I can be a part of what you two have created here. I just... well, not to repeat myself but I don't know, and I can't help but think I'm being unfair by asking him to wait while I figure that out." She turned to face him fully. "I didn't plan on telling you this, but now that I have I'm glad. It's obvious you're his closest friend in world, and since you don't care for me one way or the other you can tell me what's best for Creedy."

"You want me to tell you what to do with your life?"

She gave a barking laugh, the genuine smile cropping up again. "Well when you say it like that it sounds stupid. I just want an objective opinion." Her eyes were large, intelligent, but he found no ulterior motive in them. She meant what she said, but he felt horrendously out of his depth.

"I'll be honest with you. I've no idea what to say," he said. He smiled to soften the admission.

She shrugged. "Say whatever you're thinking."

"All right. I think... I think time goes by fast, and in these times people go by just as quickly. I think if you've got a chance to do something you should do it." He glanced at her and glanced away again. "I know Creedy would try if it were him in your shoes. Feet might be a bit big, though." Neither of them laughed. He added, "Sorry. Wasn't funny."

"At least you tried." She smirked at him. The pun was deliberate. "But, really, thank you."

"You're welcome." Quinn looked around the room once more. "I still have to check on the sentry, but after that I'm going up to see Jared, if you wanted to come."

"I'd like that."

"So what did happen to your arm?" he asked as they walked.

"Oh, it's nothing." She covered it self-consciously. "I bruise easily."

Quinn watched her from the corner of his eye. "Still must've grabbed you pretty hard, whoever it was."

"Nothing that won't heal," she replied.

"Doesn't make it right." He surprised himself with the vehemence of his words. She was right, after all. It was only a bruised arm, but for some reason, it really got under his skin. He added, "Everything heals in time."

Her tone was wry when she answered, "Time goes by fast these days."

For some reason, that stung him. "Guess I put my foot in my mouth on that one. None of my business anyway."

Rio waited politely inside while he stepped out to visit the sentry. Anthony was awake and doing just fine. The night was clear and cold. Quinn took a deep breath and held it. The moon truly was beautiful, but so infinitely distant.

He headed back into the building and didn't look at her as he started towards the back. She fell into step beside him, easily matching his stride.

She picked up the conversation as if he wasn't feeling sullen, ignoring his mood entirely.

"So what's the ultimate plan?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" He was still hurt she'd stone-walled him about the bruises, but it really was no business of his. He tried to shrug the feeling off.

"I assume you're all headed somewhere definite, not just north."

"How'd you know we were coming north?" He paused to hold the door into the back open for her.

"I didn't see you come into town so you must've come from the south."

So she lived on the north end. He mentally catalogued the fact and went on, "The end plan is in Northumberland. It's an area of England that's practically riddled with castles. We're planning to set up shop in one, a real home. Some place we might actually last in." He realized he had stopped to look at her while he explained. She was watching him attentively, her eyes wistful.

"Sounds nice," she said softly.

Quinn nodded and answered, "It will be."

She blinked, her green eyes wide, and smiled a predatory smile. "Yeah, it will."


End file.
